The whistling chirp of the wharf’s resident osprey greeted me as I walked down the gangway towardLadona.
The reflection of the ship’s pristine, cream-colored hull rippled on the water’s dark surface.
Late afternoon sun spilled golden pools onto the deck.
From left: The bow of Ladona; a life preserver with the schooner’s name, which comes from a Civil War gunship.Tara Rice
I had seen photographs of the ship during the darkest days of its restoration.
The result was nothing short of miraculous.
The region has more than 2,000 rocky, windswept islands off its jagged coastline.
A lineup of sailing rowboats off the coast of Maine.Tara Rice
Lighthouses perch on rugged outcrops while hidden coves and snug fishing ports provide peaceful overnight anchorages.
That evening, as dusk streaked the horizon in dusty pastels, I dove off the side.
Ladonabegan its life a century ago as the beloved family yacht of American industrialist Homer Loring.
From left: Main Street in the town of Rockland, the schooner’s home port; captain J. R. Braugh.Tara Rice
Today, it shines again, rechristenedLadonaand ready to sail into the future.
Noodle led me below to a cozy single berth near the ship’s fore.
Colleen wrapped the produce in tea towels and packed the bundles into benches that cleverly doubled as coolers.
Chef Anna Miller in the ship’s galley.Tara Rice
Camping this was not.
Before long,Ladona’s lines were cast off, and the boat pushed into Rockland Harbor.
Hand over hand we pulled, and the massive sail slid skyward.
Cannonballing off the deck.Tara Rice
an old navy chant sailors use to coordinate their efforts.
Soon, all four sails caught the wind.
That morning we set sail for Brooklin.
WoodenBoat School, in Brooklin.Tara Rice
A woman named Marcia said that she and her husband, Jim, had sailed on the ship before.
They loved the easy rhythm of days spent on the ocean.
Most of the fleet had already arrived, and J. R. named each ship we passed theHeritage,theJ.
Taking a rowboat for a spin in Brooklin’s harbor.Tara Rice
& E. Riggin,theMary Day asLadonaslid up alongside theStephen Taber.
Tonight it allowed us guests to mingle between the two ships, sharing stories of our day at sea.
Fleet gatherings happen a handful of times each season, but the annual assembly atWoodenBoatfelt especially meaningful.
From left: Dinner aboard Ladona; Ladona on the water.Tara Rice
His goal was to slow down their extinction.
Today, the Brooklin campus is a site of pilgrimage for aficionados from around the world.
As we entered the harbor, it felt as if the entire place thrummed with energy.
Southwest Harbor, an afternoon stop on Mount Desert Island.Tara Rice
Small craft zipped between the windjammers.
Some belonged toWoodenBoat’s sailing school.
Others, yawls and rowboats belonging to the schooners, ferried passengers ashore to explore.
From left: A guest helps second mate Kelsey Nevill raise the sails; one of Ladona’s nine guest cabins.Tara Rice
“Fire in the hole!”
Sparks flew from the fuse; seconds later a mighty boom ricocheted through Brooklin Harbor.
That evening, as dusk streaked the horizon in dusty pastels, I dove off the side of theTaber.
Schooner crews release Ladona from its sister ship, the Stephen Taber, after a gathering of the fleet.Tara Rice
Afterward, I sat bundled in layers onLadona’s deck and watched the stars congregate above the masts.
At that moment, I couldn’t have agreed more.
“And I think today’s gonna be borderline.”
The crews detachedLadonafrom theTaberand we raised the sails, which heaved the boat full tilt into Jericho Bay.
The water was steel gray and churning with whitecaps.
The bow collided with a particularly big wave and a rush of surf spilled over the deck.
The wind eased as we sailed past Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse on the southern tip of Mount Desert Island.
“We really got her up to a gallop, didn’t we?”
J. R. said with a chuckle.
He steered into Somes Sound, a long inlet that gives the island the shape of a lobster claw.
A bald eagle, gripping a fish, flew overhead and disappeared into the branches of an enormous spruce.
To our port side, Man of War Brook Falls spilled into the sound from Acadia Mountain.
J. R. told us that 19th-century ships used to replenish their water stores from it.
We dropped anchor in Somes Harbor.
A guest from Florida took the paddleboard for a spin while another tried his luck with a fishing rod.
Life on the Maine coast sharpens into focus when traveling by schooner.
Walking along Main Street, I passed salt-grayed cedar houses and wooden tubs that spilled over with late-summer blooms.
Vibrant canvases on the lawn of a white clapboard house caught my eye.
Back on board, I found lunch in full swing.
I helped myself to Anna’s famous tortilla pie.
Sabrina and Noodle raised the anchor, and J. R. steeredLadonaout into the bay.
Stories about a centuries-old osprey nest that sits atop Pulpit Rock near the island of North Haven.
Procuring lobsters forLadona’s traditional picnic is another way J. R. has strengthened those ties.
“Anytime you buy directly from them, it’s a win-win,” he told me one afternoon.
I thought back to my dinner with Noah and J. R. at Primo.
On shore, the flames from Sabrina’s bonfire licked toward the sky as folks helped themselves to wine.
I held my breath and jumped.
TheSchooner Ladonaoffers three-night sailings from $1,108.
A version of this story first appeared in the June 2022 issue ofTravel + Leisureunder the headlinePlain Sailing.
